The Shadow Master (5 page)

The man broke off his mumbling and focussed his eyes on Cosimo there in front of him. And Cosimo could have sworn that he saw mirth in them as the man violently shook his head, slicing his throat open on the blade.

 

 

VI

“Stand aside,” the Captain of the Medici guard called once more as he led his band of well-bearded Medici down the winding thin streets of the Walled City boldly, flouting the public ruling that forbade more than half a dozen armed men to congregate together at a time, their heavy boots echoing loudly off the cobblestones. Some citizens looked out their windows from the tall buildings that shadowed the streets below and shook their heads, knowing there would be trouble. If the city guard, who were notably absent, dared challenge them they would undoubtedly be the worse for it. But the men were not charged with causing any trouble today. They were on the streets largely as a show of force, to let any Lorraine supporters know that the Medicis were a gathering of lions to be reckoned with.

But twice now they had come across bands of citizens who were setting upon each other and were unsure whether to assist or leave them be. Breaking them up was the charge of the city guard, and assisting them might be considered an act of aggression, but how were they to stand by watching while common citizens took up the Medici cause against Lorraine supporters? For there were few people in the city who did not support one or other of the Houses. Generally it was due to patronage, and so it was seen as mutual support, and that clearly argued for the Medici men to come to the aid of those civilians defending the Medici name. But sometimes family members were in conflict with each other over which house to support and sometimes people had switched allegiances as patronage offers grew or waned, and were one year Medici supporters and the next were in favour of the Lorraines, and they would side with whoever came out in front in this current war of the Houses.

Others may simply have been incensed at the brutality of the murder of Giuliano Medici, who was well-loved, and even if they were Lorraine men at heart, they were willing to stand up against the Lorraine supporters over it. It made deciding what action to take difficult for the Medici militia. Cosimo Medici would not thank them for escalating civic unrest, but he would surely understand if they were defending the lives of staunch Medici supporters. Surely.

For it was an insult to their honour to see shopkeepers and craftsmen who had taken up cudgels and knives, fighting Lorraine men in the streets to avenge the murder of Giuliano while they simply marched past. And after bypassing the next tussle they came across, and lending a show of force to chase the enemy away at the one after, they drew their swords and attacked the Lorraine men at the subsequent melee, and then cheered with the Medici citizens as the cowards fled into dark alleys.

The streets of the Walled City were like a maze in many ways, with streets that wound back upon themselves, or branched off suddenly into thin alleys and dark stairways, and then came out on sunny plazas before disappearing off into different thin streets again. The best houses tended to be those with the widest streets in front of them, where horses and carriages could parade, but many noblemen and city councillors lived in apartments that were from the outside nothing more than a deep set door in a plain stone wall. Behind some doors were opulent courtyards, but behind others were small dingy rooms, and it was not apparent from the outside what might be behind each door. That was one of the constants of the Walled City. It hid its secrets well. No man could claim to know every nook and dwelling well, and only out on the public streets did a man need to have his allegiances on display.

Several of the victorious citizens of street scuffles offered to accompany the Medici men on their tour of the city, and the commander could not think of a good reason to refuse, so they set off, growing in number as they passed more Medici supporters. And as their numbers grew their sense of purpose grew. Anybody out and about this evening had to be looking for trouble, they reasoned. After all, the shops and warehouses and factories had been closed up tight all day, with their wooden shutters down, and any honest citizens and housewives and children were hiding behind locked doors. So every person they saw they challenged, as if they were the city guard themselves. “What is your name, citizen?” / “What is your business?” / “What are you doing on the streets?” / “To whom do you owe allegiance?”

And for every citizen they clubbed to the ground and kicked, or every moustached Lorraine man they chased away before them, the more just their cause felt and the more certain they were that this was what they had been charged to do. Had they not a duty to enact some form of vengeance, they began asking themselves. Had they not a duty to repay Giuliano's murder at least ten-fold?

Thus, with blood running high, when they rounded a corner onto one of the many plazas of the city and came upon two small groups of citizens lined up like schoolboys, taunting each other and throwing vegetables and stones, they didn't hesitate. They simply broke into a run, drawing their swords because they were on a battlefield. The citizens who had been throwing their insults and petty missiles in support of the Medicis looked on in shock as the Medici militia stabbed and beat the Lorraine supporters, spilling the blood of the merchants and school teachers and labourers that they knew by name.

“No, no,” some of the Medici supporters called, or, “You must stop this.” But their cries were drowned out by the sudden clutter of boots and shouts of outrage as a band of armed Lorraine men appeared at the far side of the square and came running at them with drawn swords. These men had been winding their way around the city all evening, keen to punish any false slurs against the Lorraine name and send any rabble scattering who supported the House of Medici. They too had found their cause more righteous each time they had chased a band of Medici supporters away, and they too had found the only means of supporting their Duke's dignity and their own was in drawing their swords and baying for blood.

They had been winding their way down a particularly thin alleyway, which forced them to go single file, when a hooded man had stepped out in front of them and said, “Is this a centipede I see? It surely cannot be, for it has no sting to it.”

The leader of the Lorraine men put his hand on his sword hilt and said, “Do not taunt us or we will respond with something more heavy on your head than words.” But the hooded man only laughed at that, and said, in a strange Germanic accent, “You are all girly men!” The leader of the Lorraine men drew his sword and the hooded man turned and ran.

They had chased him back into a wider street where they could hurl their curses at him three or four abreast, but he was easily outdistancing them. “Hurry, hurry,” the leader of the Lorraine men urged as he led his band around a corner, where the hooded man had fled, and entered the plaza and saw armed Medici militia attacking civilians.

The hooded man was forgotten and citizens of both sides ran and limped for cover as the conflict suddenly turned into a pitched battle around them. Wounded people cried for help to the absent city guard, or to the tightly shuttered houses around them, but nobody would be coming to their aid, it was clear. They slipped and stumbled on the bloody flagstones and dragged themselves away, leaving the armed men to fight each other. And if not for the fact that equally-armed men tend to do less damage to each other than armed men attacking unarmed men tend to, the bloodshed would have been considerable that evening. But after the initial clash of swords both militias found themselves withdrawing to either side of the plaza, dragging their dead and wounded with them.

The victory and the losses seemed about even, so neither side was willing to be the first one to withdraw from the battle field entirely and concede defeat. But neither was each group as keen to attack the other as they had been keen to attack civilians. So it was, when the city guard finally arrived on the scene and found the well-armed and bloodied Medici and Lorrain men lined up like school children, casting vegetables, stones and insults at each other. Both groups were satisfied to disperse when ordered to, without challenging the guards' authority, despite greatly outnumbering them, and they marched off along different streets to inevitably find citizens not aligned with their house, and start their outrage all over again.

 

 

VII

“Why don't you say something?” the Duchess hissed at her husband. But he just sat there quietly at a long table, surrounded by his councillors, who were arguing and bickering with each other as to how they should best act. He turned to look at his wife. She wore a long red robe with white trimming – quite a contrast to his sombre dark coat with pearls stitched into it – and it almost made her look beautiful. The men around them talked loudly, knowing it was just as important that she heard their opinions and advice as the Duke did, as they would eventually be dismissed from the chamber and the matter would be settled between the two of them. Those who advocated war with the Medici house stood closest to her, knowing that would be her preference, and those who advocated a more peaceful settlement, gathered around the Duke, knowing it would be his preference.

The Duke seemed uninterested in all their opinions though, toying with a small glass-covered brass object on the desk in front of him as the voices buzzed around his ears. “This is tarnish to the silvery name of Lorraine, to accuse of us of being behind this attack. We must act decisively to restore our honour.” / “Honour is best served by acting honourably.” / “This tastes of a power struggle across the Medici's dinner plates, and if we act quickly we can dominate the city.” / “It was sacrilege to pluck a man from life's garden in the cathedral. You must distance yourself from anything associated with it.” / “The murderers may be a plot by a lesser house to start a war between the Lorraine and Medici Houses that they will benefit from.” / “We must be decisive.” / “We must be cautious.”

“For the sake of the ancients,” the Duchess suddenly snapped, “Would you stop playing with that toy!” And the room fell silent. Each of the men looked to the Duke for a sign that they should leave, but all he said was, “It is not a toy, petal of my rose, it is a scientific device of Leonardo's that can control the weather.”

“Don't be absurd,” his wife said pointedly. “Nobody can control the weather.”

“No more than they can control the birds in the sky or the creatures in the sea?” he asked. She folded her arms and glared at him. “Let me show you,” he said. He turned the device around and showed her the dial on the front. “These markings indicate high pressure and low pressure. And when a storm is coming the air pressure is lower than it is during calm weather when the air pressure is higher.” He looked up at his wife but still she glared at him. “Have you not felt a change in the air when a storm is coming?” he asked. “That is the air pressure changing. If you boil water and capture the steam in a glass chamber you can measure the increase in pressure even as the steam builds up.”

“So?” his wife asked.

“So watch carefully,” he said. He turned a brass dial at the base of the device and the dial moved to low It took a moment, but the councillors did feel the air in the room change. It became heavier, as if steam was being released into the room from some hidden device. They looked at one another uneasily. “Does it smell like rain?” the Duke asked. Several of the advisors admitted that it did, while the Duchess said nothing.

“Now,” said the Duke, “if I turn the dial the other way.” He turned it and the change in the room again took a moment but there were murmurs of surprise all about him as the air became drier and cooler.

“It is like magic, your grace,” said one of the advisors.

“It is science,” said the Duke.

“I understand it not, and I like it less,” said one of his oldest advisers. “I have always preferred the strength of observation and reason.”

The Duke looked up and met his wife's eyes. “And what does observation and reason tell us we should do right now, do you think?”

Her lips curled into a mocking smile. “It tells us we shouldn't be sitting here in this chamber, playing with toys that have no practical use while we are attacked by our enemies.”

The Duke waved his hand in the air and the councillors and advisors then beat a hasty retreat from the room. The Duchess rose to her feet and made a grab for the device in front of her husband, but he pulled it back towards him. “You are a man with no metals in his backbone,” she hissed. “My father warned me you were a straw man.”

The Duke sat impassively. He had heard it all before. She had married beneath herself. He owed all his success to the wealth she brought to the marriage. The Walled City was her prison. She should have never left her native land. He let her talk on for some time and then said, “Yes, my rose amongst roses. I know all this. As I know that your family and most of those of your homeland are undoubtedly all dead of plague, and you are only alive because after leaving me to go and live with them, you then fled back to live in the Walled City with me.”

“Enough!” she said and banged her palm angrily on the table. “Don't taunt me.”

“I don't taunt you, violet of my heart, I just want you to calm down.”

“What good will calming down do?” she asked. “Will it change anything? Will it stop our men being slaughtered in the streets like sheep by the Medici butchers? Will it help our cause any? We should act now while our blood is up.”

“While
your
blood is up!” he corrected her.

She spun around and turned her back to him.

“We don't even know who was behind this attack yet,” he said.